Monthly Archives: March 2012

We are a generation that evades reading the newspaper, overhypes recycled movie scripts, and worships populist reality television shows, yet somehow haven’t lost the crux of good music. Sure, the mainstream music scene lacks variety, but for the most part we (society) have done a good job at praising artists who’ve committed to diligently producing fundamentally good, well-rounded music.

Bon Iver

I’m curious as to how this innovation neglect transpired in nearly every form of media other than music. The only realistic answer I’ve landed on is that we’ve lost touch with the underlying tier of literature. Underlying tier, meaning the motivation for people to engage themselves. Why is it worth my time to read the newspaper? What will I gain from reading this book? Why write an innovative script when this one works so well?

The incentive to engaging yourself in literature is only attainable by actually reading or producing original text. In simpler terms, you don’t know until you try. I didn’t understand the gratification that writing brought until I accurately fixated a thought in my head into words on a paper, and had those words understood by others. I never got why reading was so imperative until I began contributing in intellectual dialogue with people I was finally adept to entirely follow.

Producing music is an exclusive dexterity that most people don’t excel at, so the underlying tier is significantly different than reading or writing. Since music still has a framework, the core would be the primary enactment of the music. In other words, live music. Seeing your favorite band perform live will undoubtedly expand your awe for the group (if the show is good, that is). Remember your first concert? Of course you do – you’ll never forget that experience. Mine was in eighth grade, Ben Folds at the Orpheum in Madison. I was mildly obsessed with Ben for the next three years of my life. Listening to studio versions of songs he performed live that night still take me back to the concert, seven frickin’ years ago.

Veneration behind the engagement at a concert is comparable to no other presentation of art. But why is this? How can live music hit us in such a profound way?

That’s my objective – to explain the contour of live music, and why it will remain to signify the substance in all forms of music. From local acoustic performances in vacant coffee shops to sold-out shows in million dollar amphitheaters, I’ll discover the varying chucks that make live music so pronounced. I’ll start with local gigs in Winona bars (and one Montana bar where I nearly got beat up in) and coffee shops, and end in Illinois for the best music festival of the year, Summer Camp (May 25-27th, Chillicothe, IL).

Saw this awesome ensemble last month when they performed in the Smaug for a packed room of students. Smith has an untouchable voice, which heightens with every appeasing melody and strum from the Good Night Sleeps. Smith became the darling of the Minneapolis music scene shortly after she arrived as an excited teenager in 2006. She was an adored regular at Minneapolis’ 400 Bar (where Elliot Smith’s career began), which lead her to befriending and collaborating with bassist Jesse Schuster, pianist David Earl, and the drummer for Cloud Cult, Arlen Peiffer. Folk music is on the rise, and bands like these guys are exactly why. Any age, every genre fan – you’re guaranteed to tap your feet at least once.

Whenever I begin to sense I’ve figured out life for what it truly is, everything changes, and I’m back to square one. Everything changes – always. It’s an ongoing pattern that continues myself right back to mystification. An endless streak of struggle and unease is what composes my life storyline. Progression is an illusion. Control, and tranquility is what I can gain. Iset my contentment, not my success or social status. Discovering the meaning of life is realizing the meaning is *this* – right now. Regulating my temperament and accepting my nature are my sole objectives. Perceiving life as a means to an end infers there is a tangible end that will make life worthwhile- but there isn’t. There is no end, only means. If I’m content, I’m complete. Happiness is now. And now.